Until the end

Lets go till the end,
Walk with me in these horizons of times…
When the maker makes it tough,
We shall not give up,
When the doer undoes it,
We shall not let it fall….

Hold my hands and cover this mile
As there are those uncovered with our steps,
Hold me back when I loose my tread,
Let me back when I want the run…

Coz I shall run for you and only you…
Side by side,
step by step,
They would want us to give up,
Let us loose,
But I won’t give in…

Coz we started it,
We climbed on the top of this world,
Turned the ups into those downs,
Stood like Rocks side by side,
Flew in the river, taking the hits

Lets go till the end,
till the feathers are all white
And the winds are on our side,
You wanted to fly,
I fly with you…

Bruised...

Is this me, is it my fight…
a punch here, one there, sometimes below the belt,
injured, bruised, I get up,
and fight again, sometimes beating them up.
Revengeful I try,
Defeated, I win,
And then I fight….

Called myself a warrior, born to fight,
What am I fighting?
Whom m I fighting with?
What m I fighting for?
Is this what I had prepared for,
Is this what I had yield for,
I fought and I fought hard,
bruised I got up,
and again I fought hard…

Who do I fight…the enemy,
Who is the enemy?
Myself, my rules, my institution, my goals, my wishes….who???
coz I fight,
each and every moment I prepare…
for the next fight…
every night I sleep tired,
to be fresh for the fight next day…
the cheers of life are slowly becoming extinct,
the objectives are only to fight,
for what…?

Who do I punch, myself in my reflection,
or shadows of myself behind me,
fighter, warrior or call me survivor...
And I struggle, I struggle to find myself….
I struggle to fight or is it only struggle…
responsibilities I want to stand up for,
goals I want to live for,
objectives I want to die for….
everyday I fall and then rise,
bruised I stand up and I hit back….
Am I fighting or am I struggling…

Do I need this…?
Or was it something else I wished for…
Every day I get up and follow this routine I chose…
Protocols and processes,

I a “rebel” is nothing but a process,
just a process given in to these struggles,
given in to these routines…
Am I still a fighter,
Or I long back killed the fighter…
Am I choosing this life..
Or this life is choosing me….

Dreaming Chaos....

A long sleep from which I woke up,
This morning in the middle this afternoon,
on top of a cloud, my slippers on the ground,
yet in the shade of this sun,
hands and legs soaked in the sweat,
hair washed with raindrops...

While sleeping I ran, ran a life time,
While running the lifetime I lived this day,
The emotions with relatives and relationships,
The joys and sorrows,
With mountains climbed and trenches I fell,
Those drizzles and thunderstorms.
Mostly living and then making this life,
Shredding these tears while giving these smiles,

I am confused,
If I woke up from a dream, or the dream engulfed me,
If I am you or if you are me or both of us are the same,
Is it in the Mind or is it in the Life or its in both of us,
Is this is about You or is this about Me, Me alone,
Or about all of us living peacefully,
through a well organized chaos....

Chaos??
Did I make these choices,
or the choices made me,
Is this chaos or I organised all of it...
Is this Chaos..or is it Life...
Is it My Life...or it's your's as well..

I am confused,
If I woke up from a dream, or the dream engulfed me,
If the bed in the sky is mine,
or all of it will vanish with a blink,
If I will fall or I will fly,
If I will make this choice,
Or this choice will throw me back..
into Chaos...